Never Again
by Dreams of
Summary: He said never again. He made that promise. I don't think he knew the depth of what he was saying. Rated for self-injury.  Cutting/self mutilation/self harm references


**Never Again**

Pairings: Axel/Demyx

Rating: T

Warnings: Implied self-injury, angst, Yaoi, swearing

Disclaimer: I do not own the cannon things

Summary: He said never again. He made that promise. I don't think he knew the depth of what he was saying.

Author's Note: 100 Theme Contest for Writers, happy akumonth! And happy AkuDemy day! Sorry this is a sucky fic for it.

When he said he'd never again repeat those moments, I believed his conviction but I knew all the same that it would waver given the situation. I knew weakness would creep back upon him and I knew it would be harder than a simple promise of 'never ever' because I'm not naïve enough to think that life isn't tough. He had always seemed to face the world with undying optimism, so when I learnt his sequestered weaknesses, I was shocked. Maybe I should have been expecting unhappiness to reach him because who did it not touch? I however had not foreseen it from the flaxen haired musician.

"Demyx," he responded by humming an affirmative to signal me on while his fingers trembled in a controlled manner over the thick strings on his instrument. He looked up at me with his ever present smile but it was demure and careful as if he knew what I wanted to talk to him about. He probably did. "Are you alright?" His eyes flickered down and then back to me. His fingers hushed the tones and he placed the instrument down. He shrugged a little and laughed as if this was a funny conversation… As if my heart didn't feel like it was sky diving to the Berber carpet beneath my toes.

"You found the letter?" His words were like cyanide dripping through my pores. It was like some part of my world came crashing down, like the hope that the letter wasn't true, but… He had Ireally/I said that and it only meant the note was really from him, in all it's scribbled glory. My heart raced a little faster than the speed at which it had been trucking away as if on the freeway. I nodded carefully and he smiled that same smile he always did when he was trying to look differently than how he felt. It was a little rough around the edges and he seemed guilty. His eyes wouldn't meet mine, his hands were still as if frozen, as opposed to their normal fidgeting.

"Demyx," what else could I say? I had no clue what to tell him, what to ask him or even how to think but he seemed to understand my situation because he nodded. His breathing was slow and each sip of air was measured to keep him calm. His teeth gnashed against his bottom lip as he considered the words to say. I felt like the syllable had been pleading and filled with pain but I couldn't even recall the tone I had said it. All I had to go off of was the fact that I felt like he had just said he had cancer and would die in days.

"I'm sorry, you know." Flat and lifeless was the only way to describe the sounds that were emitted so coolly from him. It was frightening. I nodded and he bobbed his head to acknowledge my reaction. The silence between us dragged on and it seemed to be endlessly unbearable to watch his fear and pain. I wanted to hold him and tell him everything would be alright but at the same time I couldn't break out of my cemented position where I balanced myself precariously on the edge of the couch. In some place in my mind I also wanted to hit him with screams blasting in his face because he was Ihurting/I me.

"I'm here for you." I whispered because breaking the silence itself was difficult enough, let alone raising my voice to a normal level. That's about when his mask cracked in half. He laughed into the stillness and nodded as if that in itself was a life saving device and he was drowning. Maybe he was. The blond scoffed a little and tried to keep laughing but his voice was breaking before he could recover. One callused hand ran down his face in slight anguish and he held it over his mouth to shut himself up. I supposed that it worked but he was crying despite himself. I could remember him saying one time that he hated the sound of his own sobs. I could see his teeth piercing his knuckles and causing deep red marks. An earth shattering loud breath was taken and he evened himself out so suddenly that it was almost like whiplash.

"I know, Ax." He turned away from me and looked at the wall beside the couch. If I had been looking at the positions we were in I might have laughed. He was nose to nose with a pale blue wall and I was gaping at him. Surely that's a comical pose! It was horrifying though. What could I do to stop him from breaking down? Would it really be so bad if he broke down? I'd be able to help him back up but he could get out some of the feelings. I wouldn't let him hurt himself.

"Come here," I said at last with a hand between his shoulder blades. The shaking of his head was nearly heartbreaking. Couldn't he allow himself to get help? He had reached out so why couldn't he accept what I was offering him? "Come on, Dems, please." I tugged at his arm a little and my only reward was a choked up sob yet he refused to face me. "Demyx, what the fuck? I want to help! Why can't you just accept that? This is fucking dumb." I huffed and immediately felt bad when he stifled new streams of tears and the accompanying sounds.

"I'm sorry." He sounded so desperate…

"Don't be sorry, just fucking let me help." I wanted to punch myself for the anger in my voice and the cussword because it was the last thing he needed but I had lost control of myself for a minute. I mean there he was crying and not allowing me to help him. I loved the boy! "I don't even understand why the hell you did this again." Why couldn't I stop? Why couldn't I be nice to him when he needed support, not my anger.

"I'm so sorry," he whimpered pathetically as he finally turned to me. He was heartbreakingly beautiful and tragic looking. His tear stained face was flushed with shame and it was all I could do to hold back my own emotions.

"Shut up, Demyx, alright?" I smiled softly at him to soften the harshness of my words and wiped his face a little shoddily. "I love you, idiot, and I'm going to help. We'll get through this together. I'm gonna get mad, but I love you. I worry about you and this is gonna be tough on us. We've gotten through it before though and you did so well. This is a mistake and we move on from mistakes right?" I tried to be positive and honest but it was difficult to keep myself together properly when he was looking so pathetically in need of a hug and bubble bath. Chocolate might have done him some good too, maybe candles and a fuzzy blanket.

"Oh Axel," He scooted himself nearly onto my lap and latched onto my torso with his face in the crook of my neck.

"I want to see the cuts, not now, but sometimes soon. I will help you. How about we get some ice cream a movie and just cuddle for a while?" I asked gently, petting his hair to calm myself and him almost like those sick people who go through animal therapy. Demyx could have been a cat… He had really done it again, half a year of hard work washed away. It wasn't insignificant but he wouldn't be able to say he hadn't had a relapse in six months. I felt responsible, angry, sad and guilty. What had I done? When had I let him fall back into that habit? Had I neglected him? Had I abused him?

"You're the best boyfriend, best friend, pseudo older brother anyone could ever ask for. I'm so sorry." He kept apologizing but I didn't even want to hear it because I wanted to say it was okay. It was not 'okay' though...

"I love you." It was all I could say in response and he just laughed a little and nodded against my shoulder.

"I love you too. I'm sorry, Axel. Never again, for real this time." He whispered and all I could do was rub his back.

"You can do it this time, you can. Look at how far you made it last time." At these words he seemed to brighten and lightly, he kissed my cheek. "We'll take it day by day and if need be… then minute by minute." I forced a smile like he would if the tables were turned and he brushed a hand over the side of my face before he hugged me again.

"Thank you for everything." There was relief in his voice. Would he ever get relief like that from a blade? Would the razor ever love him like I did? I wished I could say those things to him but none of it was healthy enough to say to him.


End file.
